


Don't Go (NSFW)

by ricksrick



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, M/M, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricksrick/pseuds/ricksrick
Summary: When Rick's conscience drives him truly insane.





	Don't Go (NSFW)

Rick sat alone in the garage, staring blankly at the laser gun clenched in his fist. The burn of whiskey filled up his throat with every slow breath he took. Rick’s head ached in pain, but he ignored it. Every time he thought of his grandson, Morty, his head ached greater.

Bottles of alcohol were scattered among the floor. More than typical. Rick was surprised he was even awake at this point.

Rick was in pain. It wasn’t any sort of physical pain, no. It was greater than that. Rick’s guilt inside of him was unbearable. Every time a memory flooded of putting Morty in any danger, he tensed, trying to choke back his tears. Morty was the greatest value in Rick’s life, not matter how much he tried to ignore it.

Echoes of Morty’s screams and yells bounced through his brain. Rick shut his eyes, tight until he began to see all sorts of colors. His mind was dizzy. He remembered the time he saw Morty break his legs. How much pain he was in. How much Rick didn’t care. He remembered every time he left Morty behind for his own gain. Every time he used Morty as a sheild for himself. Every time a bullet near grazed Morty’s scalp. Every time Morty ran, limping away from a monster that was trying to fucking kill them. Every time Rick called Morty names. Every time Rick knew he hurt Morty’s feelings.Every time he took advantage of him. But he never cared.

He regretted ever bringing Morty on an adventure. Rick’s heart pumped in pain, grieving over his own selfish actions.

Rick hated himself for the way he ruined Morty’s innocence. Morty could be a normal teenager, with a normal high school life. If only he just left him alone. But Rick couldn’t stand himself so much, he needed someone to be miserable with him. He dragged Morty into his shitty life just for his own sake. He didn’t want to be alone, but he felt like that was his only choice at this point.

Rick squeezed the gun in his hand even tighter.

He tried to think of good things about being with Morty too. The silly little remarks Morty made always brought the slightest pleasure to Rick. Every time Morty said Rick’s name, his body would grow weak. Every time Morty asked to go on a new adventure with his grandpa.

Oh, how he loved this boy. But it just made Rick feel frail as he thought about it.

Morty didn’t deserve this. Morty would be normal again without his grandpa Rick. Everyone would be happier without him. No more inconveniences. He wanted this to benefit Morty out of all people. He could make real friends, and go out every night and come home late. He could play video games nonstop without being bored. He could finally ask that girl Jessica out on a date. Jessica.

Impulse kicked in to Rick. His brain remained filled with irrational thoughts. He needed to act before it was too late.

Rick grabbed his flask and chugged the last bit of booze before lifting the gun to his mouth. The flask dropped from Rick’s hands as he placed his index finger over the trigger. Rick’s eyes remained closed tight. His legs were shaky, and he could feel his cold breath over his hand on the gun.

The gun clicked, and Rick was immediately interrupted by a voice. The voice of his grandson.

“R-Rick!” Morty sounded horrified, seeing his grandpa holding that gun to his mouth about to pull the trigger. Morty’s face grew pale, his body becoming numb.

Rick jolted at the sound of Morty’s voice, pulling his head back and nearly throwing the gun from his hands. Rick snapped out of his impulsive thoughts, almost glad he was to hear Morty one more time. He missed that sweet, high pitched voice. Even if he was in distress.

“Morty.. M-Morty. I was just fixing it.” He fake laughed at himself, but it wasn’t a very convincing one. Rick swiped a screwdriver from his desk and started fiddling with some screws. “Look, Morty. I-I-was just fixing the gun, Morty. It’s okay!”

Rick, in a dizzy daze, saw Morty’s eyes filled with tears. In no time they were streaming down his face. They both knew what he saw. And there wasn’t any lie that could force this new memory from Rick or Morty.

Rick was faking a smile, trying to cheer up Morty, still fiddling with screws.

Morty shakily walked over to Rick, watching his face. He finally reached him, and gently pulled the gun from his hands. He could barely hold onto it, let alone see from all of the held in crying.

Rick’s smile faded quickly. He watched his grandson silently weep and shake so hard in his shoes. He couldn’t move. His brain was static, and Rick felt pure emptiness. 

Morty dropped the gun to his feet, then quickly wrapped his arms around his grandpa. Morty gripped Rick’s labcoat as hard as he could, nearly knocking Rick over. Morty cried into Rick’s chest harder than he’s ever cried before. Morty held Rick so tight as if he didn’t want him to ever leave his arms.

Rick slowly wrapped his own arms around Morty’s shoulders, and attempted to pull him closer, but he was as close as he could get. Neither of them spoke a word, but they could sense what the other was feeling.

Rick’s legs got tired and tense the more he stood. His adrenaline, anxiety and all of the alcohol didn’t mix. Morty still held onto him with his dear life.

He attempted to pick Morty up, succeeding for a moment, but he slowly let himself fall to the floor, right on his butt. He held Morty just as tight as Morty was holding him. Morty never even dared to let go. Rick allowed Morty to climb up into his lap, cradling him in his arms while they gripped each other. Morty sat comfortingly on Rick’s thighs, letting his legs drape over him.

Rick hadn’t a clue what to do. He calmly rubbed Morty’s back until he slowed his crying. Every now and then a gasp escaping his throat.

Rick shut his eyes, and focused on his breathing for awhile. He rested his lips onto Morty’s head and slowly exhaled. As they sat there, Rick finally got the courage to say something. His heart pounded, but he managed a soft whisper into Morty’s curls.

“Thank you.”


End file.
